When. Not if.
“I say we make a pact to celebrate the love and friendship that ties us all together by having you two finally set a date for your wedding.”
“I agree,” chorused Cordelia and Sheffield at the same time.
Wrexford took a long swallow of his brandy. “Now that we’ve resolved one of our challenges, let us turn our attention to the other.”
* * *
The others went very still.
“We were fortunate beyond words tonight,” he began. “Let us hope our luck will hold.” Charlotte was trying to keep a brave face, but Wrexford could see her strength was flagging, so he made himself hurry in explaining about Jarvis to Cordelia and Sheffield.
“Merciful heavens,” whispered Cordelia.
Charlotte clasped her hands together and shot to her feet, a spark of fire lighting her eyes. “I need to fetch something from my workroom,” she called as she hurried into the corridor.
The arrival of Tyler and Henning demanded a repeated account of Charlotte’s rescue, along with the surmise that the villains were holding Alison as a bargaining chip.
“They have taken the Dragon prisoner?” growled the surgeon. “God help them,” he added after a rusty laugh.
“Much as I admire the dowager’s fearsome abilities,” replied the earl, “I would rather that we get her home as soon as possible. I don’t believe she is in any imminent danger—”
But before he could continue, McClellan appeared right behind them with a platter of food. “Sustenance is important to keep our strength up.”
“So is whisky.” Henning’s voice was more gravelly than usual, betraying his fatigue. “When do we leave to rescue the dowager?”
“Not so fast,” said Wrexford over the clink of crystal against crystal. “It’s too dark to search the most likely areas, so we really have no choice but to wait until dawn to begin.”
Tyler spied the maps on the work counter. “It looks as though you have some idea of where they may be holding her.”
“Yes, Kurlansky—”
“Kurlansky?” exclaimed Henning. “And you believe a word that conniving rascal has to say?”
“In this case, yes. It was he who rescued Charlotte from Jarvis’s clutches.”
Before the surgeon could reply, Charlotte came rushing back into the room, a much wrinkled and folded piece of paper clutched in her hands.
“Everyone, gather around,” she called, after moving to the earl’s desk and opening it atop the leather blotter.
It was, saw Wrexford, the satirical print by A. J. Quill that he had brought back from Greeley’s office—the commentary Charlotte had created after hearing the leading nautical engineers in Britain give a symposium on steam power and ships at the Royal Institution.
“Look.” She pointed to one of the figures positioned behind the two gentlemen in the foreground of the artwork. “Maitland and Tilden were the main speakers at the symposium. So they were the pair that Wrex and I were focused on, wondering whether Greeley saved the print because he knew one of them. However, I drew in other participants—I didn’t mention the names in the captions, but I now realize that one of them was Colonel Jarvis!”
“A military man, who is probably skilled with a weapon,” said Wrexford. “You’re thinking he is the one responsible for Greeley’s murder, as well as that of the arsonist?”
“It seems a strong possibility. The witness I met at the tavern said the man who hired the arsonist had hair the color of strong tea,” replied Charlotte. “Jarvis has dark reddish-brown hair.”
Which meant the man was a ruthless killer. Once the dowager became expendable . . .
Keeping such disturbing thoughts to himself, the earl nodded. “Kit and I saw that he had no compunction about attacking us to keep the consortium’s secrets safe.”
“I wonder how he came to be working with Taviot?” asked Sheffield.
“My guess is that he decided Taviot’s consortium was ahead in the race to build an oceangoing steamship and saw the opportunity to make an obscene profit by selling out his country,” answered Wrexford.
But it isn’t the past that matters at this moment—it is the present, he reminded himself. “Let us put those questions aside for now. We need to concentrate our efforts on studying the maps and figuring out exactly where the dastards are most likely to have gone to ground.”
